


Fabula Exspiravit

by Venstar



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Gift Exchange, Legends, M/M, MI6 Anon Gift Exchange, ghost story, things that go bump in the night - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:15:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21792103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venstar/pseuds/Venstar
Summary: what lurks in the darkest depths?
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52
Collections: Mi6 Cafe Prompt Fills





	Fabula Exspiravit

**Author's Note:**

> for the mi6 cafe anon gift exchagne

“If you come back three times, you will never leave.”

Or so they had been told. It was something whispered amongst the depths of MI6. Literally, in the darkest, deepest depths of MI6. Where the rats hung out and the discards of Q branch lay. Their own ghostly shells littering the dank passages, where junk went to die. 

Most assumed it meant that if you managed to survive three assassination attempts while working as a field agent, that you were pretty much good to go. If that didn’t scare you away, nothing would. Or maybe it meant that as a double oh, once you got past your THIRD kill and not your second, nothing would scare you away. The meaning was iffy at best. 

However, it was those that lurked in the depths of MI6 that knew the truth. 

Q generally tried to discourage those curious or absentminded souls from visiting the lower levels. Or, at least he tried to. Sometimes he’d get distracted and Smithers would be reminded that OH, something something had been worked on by someone someone, sometime ago and now where did it go...and make the trip to the basement. 

Sometimes they were lucky and Q found them before they got too far or disturbed. Sometimes he was too late and the poor unlucky soul was disturbed. 

Q was bent over the poor innards of a malfunctioning prototype all-terrain vehicle meant for 008’s upcoming trip to South Africa. He was muttering the foulest words he could think of in order to encourage inspiration and a solution. The vehicle remained silent. His silent audience did not. 

“That poor engine. I always promise to warm her up, before I drive her long and hard…”

Q jerked in surprise and softly cursed as the motion jolted the bonnet prop. Bulletproof bonnets hurt and he was about to end up in medical...again, thanks to 007. 

“Watch it Q!” Bond’s hand shot forward and caught the heavy bonnet at the last second, so it didn’t end up crushing the Quartermaster. “We need you in one piece...not in pieces.” He laughed at his own joke.

“I really, really hate you,” Q said, rising from his undignified position. He sighed at the sight of 007 standing there as if he hadn’t been missing for months now. A quick glance assured him that he was mostly alright if he did look a little bruised about the eyes and maybe had added a new scar along his jawline and his hair was a little longer. 

“Oh, Q. I missed you.” Bond winked at him as he propped the bonnet up again. 

This was the second time that Bond had gone MIA without a cold corpse to reassure the villains that he was in fact dead. Q’s heart went a little cold.

“You need a haircut,” Q groused as he replaced his tools onto the caddy next to the vehicle. He glared at it the engine block. “I’ll come back, don’t you worry. We have a score to settle.”

“Wouldn’t want to get on your bad side, Q.” 

Q sighed, that’s all he could do. “Then bring back all my equipment and stop disappearing.” He stalked off, unfortunately, Bond was a little taller and had the legs to match his. It was like having a terrier trotting behind you. “Why are you following me.”

“M said you had something for me.”

Q came to a halt and then did an about-face. Of course. 

“You alright Q?” Bond asked, pausing before he made his own U-turn.

“Quite. Just. This will be the second time you’ve come back.”  
Bond caught up to Q and knocked his elbow into Q’s. Q came to a dead stop. Bond never touched on accident, there was no way he would ‘accidentally’ ever brush into someone’s personal space without permission or purpose. Q looked curiously up at him. “What?”

“Did you wish I hadn’t come back?” Bond looked concerned.

Oh. Perhaps Q had spoken strangely, making Bond assume that he didn’t wish him to come back, that he wished him dead. Q shook his head before continuing on, trying to negate Bond’s thoughts. “No, I hate when an agent goes missing for any period of time.”

“You say the sweetest things.”

“It’s just…”

When Q didn’t continue, Bond again brushed his elbow.

“Stop that.”

“What? You miss me more than the others?” There was a tinge of amusement in Bond’s voice.

Q’s lips tightened until he got to the workbench he needed that contained Bond’s equipment. He gripped the metal surface. “No.”

“Lies.”

Q glared up at him. “This is an inappropriate workplace conversation.”

Bond leaned against the workbench and lowered his lashes. “Would you like to make it an inappropriate conversation outside of the workplace? I know a place that you’d adore. They have the best-”

Q’s hand shot up and pressed against Bond’s face. He wouldn’t admit that it was to press them against Bond’s mouth to shut him up, ever. But he did. He will also never admit that he may have left them there a little longer than appropriate to the workplace or the fact that Bond may have pressed a small kiss to them.

“Stop that. I have to go over your equipment. Try not to go missing this time. Not a third.” Q paused and then looked up at Bond. All the serious weight in his body went into his voice. “Come back straight away. No chances. No heroics. You can’t afford to-” Q waved his hand in the air. He didn’t know how to phrase the warning.

Bond waited for him to finish his sentence. “Why not?”

There was no help for it. “Or you’ll become one of them and...I don’t want that for you.”

“One of what?”

Q paused. He wasn’t sure how much Bond knew. Maybe he knew, maybe he didn’t. He didn’t say anything, just motioned with his hand for Bond to follow him. He led him down to the depths of the tunnels and into the graveyard of projects and waited. The cold seeped into their clothes, the damp coating their skin, leaving it cold and clammy. Bond shivered from something Q wasn’t sure was the cold.

“Pick that up,” Q said, pointing to one of the discards. 

Bond glanced curiously at him, but reached a hand and grabbed the harness of an old jetpack. Q watched as Bond’s relaxed curiosity turned into panic and fear as he suddenly dropped the jetpack and took a step back. Bond glanced around furtively, searching. His wide eyes finally landed on Q.

“Can you hear them?”

Bond nodded solemnly.

Q turned to lead the way out of the depths. “If you come back three times, you will never leave.”


End file.
